My god, one can see such a different side of people when one's merely a menial. O God what utter amazing ruddy bliss to no longer be a menial. - J. P. Donleavy

"Turn to gangsterism."
"Sebastian, I couldn't."
"Tone, pride has you at its mercy."
"Has me by the very ballocks."
"Tony, I think a pint would see us right."
"I think you're right for the first time since you last said that."

Love and affection calms the horse. Provided you can administer these before you are bitten, trampled or kicked to death. Meanwhile step back out of harm's way. Murmur quiet peaceful words. There, there now. Easy there. Quietly now. Good old fellow.

What's that. A massive shadow. Moving. Big white curly head. Two horns nicely curving down. On a Hereford bull. Dear God. Although I don't believe in you, here is an opportunity for you to prove to me you exist. If you will just not let that beast come after me, trapped as I am here on all fours on the edge of this bank.
Darcy Dancer holding his breath. The bull slowly turning to sniff in the shadows. And the welcome sound. Of ripping grass again. The behemoth grazing. And another shadow seems like a heifer nudging beside him. Much better that he jumps on her than he wastes time chasing me.